Band of Brothers
by Servant of the King
Summary: A series of one-shots taking place before, during, and possibly after the events of "The Hobbit". It will focus mainly on Fili and Kili (although I plan to have the other Dwarves and Bilbo also appear). UPDATED: The First Battle, in which Fili and Kili fight against a real enemy for the first time.
1. The Fire Moon

J.M.J.

Band of Brothers

 _We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;_

 _For he today that sheds his blood with me_

 _Shall be my brother_

 _~William Shakespeare's_ Henry V

 _Author's Note: Greetings! Here I have what I intend to be essentially a series of one-shots about the Dwarves and Bilbo from_ The Hobbit _, taking place shortly before and during and perhaps after the Quest for Erebor_. _Because I am incurably a fan of Fili and Kili, they will certainly receive the main focus from as far as I can see. They will also be predominantly movie-verse, because while I love the book, it's somehow easier for me to write movie-verse fanfiction. Maybe that's because the canon has already been played with usually and I feel like I can do more without breaking something._

 _This particular entry of this collection takes place a few years – probably no more than five – before_ The Hobbit _. It didn't quite turn out like I had planned, but I think it works better than my original idea. If you have any thoughts on the matter (of whether it is good or bad), please share them in a review!_

 _Naturally, I do not own_ The Hobbit _or any of the characters or locations therein._

The Fire Moon

The sun was beginning to set as the weary group of Dwarves climbed down from their ponies and began to set up their camp. They were nearing the pass near Dunland, which was a relief to them all, because it meant that in another week or so they ought to reach their destination and then could begin the return trip to Ered Luin. That was a fortunate thing, for they were merchants and it wasn't very safe to pass through Dunland with a valuable cargo.

Not everyone was so concerned, however. In fact, two of the members of the company secretly hoped they would run into a bit of trouble, so that they could have the fun of getting out of it again. Of course, they had been hired as escorts to help in case of trouble, so perhaps that was part of it. After all, everyone likes to play a significant role in a venture, rather than merely standing in the background, just in case.

Or perhaps it was just the way they were. The two young sons of Dis, the sister of Thorin Oakenshield, were known for being reckless. Kili especially was. In comparison, Fili was considered the responsible one, but that was mostly only in comparison. In truth, they were both over fond of adventure, even and especially uncomfortable adventures.

They were young to be hired as escorts, but they were both already proficient with weapons. Moreover, they were distant cousins of Gloin, one of the principal dwarven merchants in this venture and he trusted them as kinsmen. Ever since their uncle Thorin had gone off in search of his father and their grandfather, Thrain, they had been looking for something to do, and so Gloin had offered them this.

The Dwarves had set up their camp and the one who had drawn the short straw had begun cooking supper. Fili and Kili had quickly scouted out the area. There were neither any orcs nor any Dunlenders about, so they felt they could be on a very relaxed guard tonight. Fili sat down and began whittling on a stick, while Kili walked up and down, waiting for supper.

There was one very young Dwarf in the company named Nithi. He was the son of one of the merchants and practically still a child. His mother had died several years earlier, and so his father had brought him along since he had no nearby relatives whom he could leave him with. From the very beginning of the journey, Nithi had been fascinated by Fili and Kili and spent a great deal of time watching them.

Tonight was no exception. He sat in the gathering dusk, watching Fili whittle the stick with wide-eyed fascination. Fili didn't really understand what Nithi's interest was and the constant staring made him uncomfortable.

"Can you whittle?" Fili asked, wanting to make some kind of conversation to break the discomfiting silence.

Nithi didn't say a word. Instead, he slowly shook his head.

"Do you want to learn?" Fili said the words slowly and uncertainly, being unable to guess what the younger Dwarf was thinking.

Nithi nodded this time, just as silently and just as slowly.

Fili took a second knife from his belt and handed it to Nithi. "Here you are. You'll have to find your own stick to work on."

"For me?" Nithi's eyes were wide in wonder as he eagerly accepted the offered knife.

"It's just a loan," Fili told him with a smile.

Nithi scooted closer and leaned over to peer at Fili's handiwork. "What are you making?"

"It's a flute." Fili handed it to Nithi so that he could look at it more closely.

"Oh." Nithi's voice sounded disappointed. "I thought –" The young Dwarf looked up at Fili. "My father told me your great-grandfather was Thror."

"He was," Fili assured him. He was, after all, rather proud of the fact.

Nithi gave him another puzzled look. "Then why are you making a flute? Why not something – amazing?"

Fili raised an eyebrow. Kili had been listening, and now he broke into laughter.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, brother," he said in a teasing tone. "Destroying Nithi's ideals of grandeur of the Line of Durin."

Before Fili could make a protest, Nithi turned his eager attention to Kili instead. "Can you tell me about Thror and the Lonely Mountain and all of that?"

"He doesn't actually remember any of that," Fili said, continuing to shape his stick into a flute. "That was before his time."

"You weren't there either," Kili reminded him. "But Thorin has told us enough stories that we ought to be able to repeat a few of them."

"Oh, tell me!" Nithi practically shouted with enthusiasm, letting his arm swing down in excitement and nearly stabbing Fili in the knee with the knife in his hand.

Kili instinctively lurched forward as if to stop the knife, but Fili had gotten out of the way in time. Covering for himself, Kili changed his action to sitting down next to his brother and the younger Dwarf.

"We could tell you a few stories," Fili offered.

"What was it like to live in Erebor?" Nithi asked. "Did they make great weapons and armor?"

"Of course, they did," Kili told him, sounding almost personally offended at even the suggestion that they might not have. "They made the finest in the world. Much better than elven weapons, even if people say that the elven ones are the best. They made mail out of _mithril_ , and no blade could pierce it. Every sword and dagger was perfectly balanced and were practically unbreakable."

"Not to mention that the Mountain itself was a great fortress," Fili added. "Its defenses were so well-designed that a handful of Dwarves could hold off an attacking army. The only way in was through the Front Gate, and so, as long as that was held, the Mountain was held."

"That's not all," Kili continued, going back to the topic of the weapons. "Not only were they better for fighting than any weapons forged before or since then, but they were also very beautiful. They had gems inlaid in the hilts of the swords. The handles of the axes were graven with intricate designs."

"Here, I'll show you." Fili took a dagger out from underneath his coat and handed it to Nithi. "Thorin gave me that. It's a small part of the treasures rescued when the dragon came."

Nithi handled the dagger with an almost reverential awe. "And all those swords and daggers and axes that didn't get rescued? Are they still there?"

"Mmm." Kili frowned at the thought of it. "They're not all, either. All of the gold and jewels and cups and plates and rings and musical instruments and –"

"Who cares about any of that stuff?" Nithi wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "Well, other than the gold and jewels."

Kili raised his eyebrows in surprise. He could not have imagined asking a question like that, even when he was as young as Nithi. "They're the birthright of our people. Of course, we should care. It's – it's an insult to all Dwarves for that treasure to be lying in a dragon's hoard. But we'll get it back one day," he continued, thinking with excitement about it. "When we're older, Fili and I will gather up the armies of the Dwarves and we'll go back and fight the dragon and reclaim our –"

Kili's speech was cut short by an unceremonious call that supper was ready. Although all three of the young Dwarves were very much so interested in the conversation, there never was a Dwarf who could turn down supper. Afterward, Nithi fell asleep near the fire, being a very young Dwarf indeed and being worn out from the long day of traveling. The older Dwarves also talked for a little while longer before they, too, began to drop off to sleep, one by one.

As always, Fili was to have the first watch and Kili the second (they switched every other night who would take the first watch, but it was always one of the two of them). Even so, Kili didn't right away go to sleep. He stayed up for a while, looking up at the stars that were appearing in the now-dark sky and thinking.

Finally, he shook himself, or perhaps he shuddered. "I wish the moon would come up. It's too dark, with just the starlight."

"It should rise before much longer," Fili commented, although he wasn't particularly interested in either the moon or the stars just now. His thoughts were far away in the halls of Erebor, a place he had never seen from a time before he was born. He didn't even know completely what it looked like. He had seen paintings and sketches and carvings, of course, but those couldn't capture the whole of it. And yet his very soul longed to go there and see it.

"Do you think Thorin will ever try to reclaim the Lonely Mountain?" he mused finally. "Or do you think it really will be left up to us?"

"I don't know." Kili poked at the fire with a stick and watched little showers of sparks come up like the breath of tiny dragons. "He wants to; I know that. He doesn't think it's possible, but if someone showed him the way, I'm sure he would jump at the chance."

"A good army of Dwarves ought to be more than enough to defeat one dragon," Fili replied confidently. "We just need to find a way to get them to follow us. I don't see why they won't follow Thorin. I would follow him into the lair of Smaug himself, even if it was just the two of us, and there's nothing that could change my mind."

"I would be there, too," Kili insisted. "There's nothing that could get me to stay behind if once Thorin decided to lead such a quest."

Fili nodded. "Perhaps if Thorin does find our grandfather, the two of them together would lead us, and then the other Dwarves could hardly refuse to follow."

"I don't see how it would be so very hard to defeat the dragon anyway," Kili said. "The Front Gate may be the only way in, but that means it's also the only way out. The dragon must leave sometimes. All we would have to do is wait for it to leave, and then we could go in and prepare the Mountain's defenses against its return."

"Or we could wait for it to fall asleep and then come in through the Front Gate unnoticed," Fili added.

From there, they began a lively discussion of all the strategies that they might use to defeat the dragon and what weapons would be most useful against it and whether it would be better to destroy the carcass once the dragon was dead or to keep its head both as a trophy and as a warning to other dragons.

While they were debating this, the moon rose in the eastern sky. At first, neither of the young Dwarves took much notice of it, being far too absorbed in their plans. However, the moon that night was one that would refuse to go unnoticed by anyone who was awake to see it. It was full and seemed far bigger than normal, but more than that, the higher it rose, the redder it became.

"Look! It's a fire moon," Kili, who was the first to notice it, said.

He and his brother watched as the moon seemed to burn dark red and gold like an ember. It was as if the dragon, growing tired of lying on the treasure of the Dwarves, had now taken up its residence on the moon. Perhaps it would have been better for the dragon if it had, for somehow that fiery moon seemed to stir an even greater determination in the hearts of the two young Dwarves watching it. They would see the dragon defeated and Erebor returned to the Dwarves, even if they died doing so.


	2. The First Battle

J.M.J.

 _A/N: Hello again! I know it's been literally ages since I've updated this. Seriously, when I started it, I had these grandiose ideas of a huge collection of stories. I'm not sure whether that's ever going to happen or not, but in the meantime, here's another story to add. Hope you enjoy!_

 _This one takes place years before_ The Hobbit _. Fili and Kili are the equivalent of human teenagers around fourteen or fifteen or so (I'll confess, I'm not well-versed enough in Dwarven-to-human age ratios to even make a guess at how old this would actually make them)._

 _ **The First Battle**_

Thorin Oakenshield was sitting at the entrance to the hall where he lived when he wasn't on the road somewhere. His sister, Dis, lived there all year round with her young sons, Fili and Kili. It was embarrassing, really, to have the last of the Line of Durin living in a hovel like this. As far as men's standards went, it wasn't so bad, especially compared to anything in Rohan, but it was certainly not a suitable place for Dwarven royalty to make their home. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Thorin was on the road so often: to forget the miserable circumstances his people were forced to live in since the Dragon had taken their home.

He had just returned from one of his journeys. That had scarcely been three hours ago. Of course, the moment he had arrived, Fili and Kili had rushed up to him and asked him to tell them all about his journey. Fortunately, Dis had shooed them away, telling them that Thorin would tell the whole story later. They had been disappointed, of course, but they had listened and wandered off somewhere.

Where they had been all this time, Thorin couldn't say, but now he could see them practicing with swords right in the middle of the village, and doing a poor job of it, too. Kili didn't seem to have any idea what to do with his feet, and Fili was flailing so wildly with his sword that it would be a wonder if he didn't kill his brother right now.

What a humiliating end to the Line of Durin, to have the last two in a direct descent from the mighty Dwarf king to kill each other through their own incompetence while practicing with swords. Thorin was just going to have to step in and stop that from happening.

In Fili and Kili's view, they weren't doing so badly. They had been at it for over a quarter of an hour now, and so far had not inflicted any minor injuries on each other. Whether that was an improvement or not (after all, the idea of sword-fighting was to inflict injuries) was hard for them to say, but they took it as an improvement. It did mean that their control and technique had improved enough that their blades landed where they wanted them to.

Thorin had seen their skill (or lack thereof) before, and so he had no way of knowing that this was an improvement. Out of the corner of his eye, Kili saw his uncle get up from his seat before the door and stalk over to them a moment before he shouted, "Fili! Kili! What are you doing?"

Fili hadn't had the moment of warning that Kili had had and was so startled by the demand that he dropped his sword. Kili was in mid-swing at the moment and hadn't time to check it. The tip of his sword cut through Fili's left sleeve, which darkened with a small trickle of blood.

"You don't even have the sense to practice with blunt weapons." Thorin shook his head in disgust.

Fili and Kili glanced at one another sheepishly. The idea of practicing with dull weapons hadn't even occurred to them.

"No, uncle," Fili admitted. He clasped a hand over the scratch (that was all it was, really; Dwarves have very thick skin), which was stinging a little.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Thorin asked.

He wasn't even making an effort to cover up his annoyance, but his nephews somehow didn't understand.

"We've been teaching ourselves," Kili said with obvious pride.

"You've taught yourselves?" Thorin folded his arms in disapproval. Why hadn't Dis seen to it to have her sons properly instructed in the art of bearing arms? "Has no one taught you anything of fighting?"

"You did, when you were here last," Kili reminded him. "Balin and Dwalin do whenever they're about, but as you know, they're often away from here."

"We're getting better," Fili added.

"Better?" Thorin repeated. "I don't think what I just saw could be better than anything. Fili, pick up your sword again. Watch my footing, Kili. It's a wonder you haven't tripped yourself before now."

He began sparring with Fili as Kili watched intently not only Thorin's footing, but the way he used his sword as well. However, he didn't have much time to watch. It took Thorin less than a minute to disarm Fili. That disheartened him all the more. These two nephews of his were truly abominable swordsmen.

"How did you do that, uncle?" Fili asked in wonder. He had never seen such a sword trick before, and had anyone besides his uncle played it on him, he would have been mortified at the shame of being defeated so easily. As it was, he regarded Thorin as the greatest swordsman there was, and so the sting of this defeat was not so sharp.

"It's very simple," Thorin told him. "Both of you have much to learn about the use of weapons. Perhaps it is not too late."

He spent several hours longer instructing them in proper techniques and footing. They had to unlearn most of what they had taught themselves, but by the time Thorin judged them to be too exhausted to gain anything further from this session (and it is no easy thing to exhaust a Dwarf for they are hardy people), he could already see some small improvement in them. Being an honest Dwarf, he knew that this was more from their eagerness and willingness to learn than from his skill in instruction, and that pleased him. They were still very young, after all, and with their spirit, he could make warriors out of them yet. He would need to spend more time with them, though, and ensure that their training was correct.

As for Fili and Kili, they were delighted by the attention that Thorin was paying them. For the next several weeks, he worked with them daily, and in the evenings, he made it a point to tell them about the history of the Dwarves and particularly Erebor, which from their childhood had been a name that had always filled them with a sense of wonder and adventure and greatness. As they listened to these tales of the warriors of old, they longed to use the skills they were gaining in battle and prove themselves.

The chance for this came sooner than they expected. The year was waning, and as the weather became colder, Dis sent her sons out to gather firewood to build up their woodpile. Being very young yet, they felt adventurous as they headed out into the forest with axes strapped on their backs and swords at their sides. They need not have gone for from the village, but in their longing for adventure they walked a good deal deeper into the woods than they had to before they got to work cutting wood.

They had a pony with them, of course, that could carry and drag far more wood than they could. It was a gentle creature, getting to be a little elderly but still strong. Fili had been leading it, and when they reached the spot where they decided to go to work, he set the lead on the ground and left the pony standing there untied. It would stay there on its own.

"I'll bet that I can cut more wood than you in the same amount of time," Kili challenged his brother.

"Impossible," Fili replied. "I'll bet five pieces of gold that you can't."

"All right," Kili agreed, and they both began working with their axes as quickly as they could.

They were so focused on their work that they didn't notice the pony growing uneasy. It flicked its ears back and forth, stamped its hooves, and looked all around it suspiciously. It could smell danger approaching and very much so wished to be on its way. In its long life of service to its young masters and their mother, it had never moved from a place where it had been commanded to stay. It had learned to trust them, and so it remained where it stood, though the scent of danger was growing stronger every moment.

Finally, something crunched in the brush behind the pony. By this time, the vile scent was closer than ever. The pony cocked an eye and an ear back to look. What it saw was clearly not pleasing to it, for it tried the pony's gentle nature to the point that the animal jumped with a shrill neigh of alarm and took off at a straight gallop into the woods and toward its home, contenting itself to the idea that whatever service it owed its masters did not include sacrificing its life for them.

However, even in abandoning them, it did them a valuable service. Its shriek and sudden flight finally attracted their attention, and they both turned rapidly to look. This was a fortunate thing, for right at that very moment, a small pack of orcs was sneaking up on them. They were too cautious to go near the village, but they saw no danger in honing their hunting skills by ambushing two young Dwarves who were so foolish as to wander this far away. Just as Kili turned to look at what was bothering the pony, one of the orcs let an arrow fly at the point where his head had been a moment before.

Not without a certain amount of thrill at finding themselves in sudden danger, Fili drew his sword and plunged straight into the thick of the pack of orcs with Kili following a moment after him. It was no doubt a foolish thing to do since they had no idea how many or even, right at first, what their attackers were. Luck was on their side, though, for the orcs hadn't expected to miss in their cowardly ambush, and so were ill-prepared to defend themselves.

Even so, there were about half a dozen of them, hardened things from living in the wild and fighting and hunting for their survival. The odds against Fili and Kili were high. Yet they fought with all the enthusiasm and courage that lay in the heart of a young Dwarf, using everything that Thorin had taught them over the last weeks.

Fili killed one of the orcs right away in his first charge, and Kili cut another legs off at the knees so that it was unable to contribute further to the fight. Three of the others surrounded Fili. Another confronted Kili, and fifth one hesitated. Perhaps it realized that it was needed most in fighting Kili but was too afraid for its own skin to take on the Dwarf that was fighting less opponents.

Whatever its reason, its moment of hesitation gave Kili the chance to defeat his solitary opponent. In truth, it was managed mostly by luck, since Kili forgot the footing that Thorin had been teaching him and succeeded in tripping himself over his own feet. He felt the orc's blade swing inches over his head as he fell forward against his opponent. He knocked the orc from its feet, surprising it enough to give himself time to drive his sword deep into its body.

Then he turned his attention to the three orcs that were attacking his brother. The fourth, the cowardly one, joined those three. If it was too afraid to take part in a fight that was two against one, it was certainly too afraid to fight one to one.

Fili was having the worst of his battle. He was remembering what Thorin taught him better than Kili had, which was fortunate for otherwise he would never have survived. Even so, four to one and with no experience in a real fight was too great odds.

Kili plunged in the the skirmish just in the nick of time. He took one of the orcs by surprised and killed it before it knew that any attack was coming from that direction. The cowardly orc, seeing the tide of the battle turning, took off running, abandoning its companions to their fate. With the odds so significantly reduced, it took only a minute or two for Fili and Kili to finish off the remaining orcs.

Once that was done, they looked around them and panted, for now that the excitement was done, they found themselves a bit winded. Even so, they were both grinning broadly. They had fought their first battle and despite being outnumbered had suffered no worse than a few minor cuts and scrapes.

"Thorin will be proud when we tell him," Kili said.

That was the first thing on Fili's mind, too. "We should take one of their heads back to show him."

The gory suggestion set well with Kili, and they chose one whose head had been severed in the skirmish. One of the orcs had been carrying a spear, and so they used this to mount their gruesome prize.

When they reached home, they found their mother standing in front of their home, evidently watching for them with a worried expression on her face.

"Mother! Uncle!" Kili shouted, holding up the spear and its grisly burden. "Look what we've done!"

Dis took a moment to call into the house, "They're back!" before she ran forward to greet her sons with a hug. Though Dwarf women usually had a stoic view of the danger their brothers, sons, and husbands (and sometimes themselves) encountered, Dis worried about her sons ever since the death of their father when they had been very small.

"Mother," Fili protested, "we were hardly even gone long enough to cut the wood." His voice trailed off a bit at the last words. He and Kili had forgotten to complete their task.

"Blossom came back without you an hour ago," Dis told them. "She would never do that unless something had happened to you. Thorin was just about to go out and look for you."

As she finished explaining, Thorin came out and joined them.

"Look, uncle." Kili held up the spear again. "We were attacked by orcs out there. Six or seven of them, but we fought them all." He then proceeded to launch into a largely exaggerated account of the fight, with Fili throwing in a few details to emphasize his part in the affair.

Thorin couldn't hide a proud smile as he listened. He knew not all the details his nephews were giving him could possibly be true, but then all warriors exaggerated the tales of their adventures. Yes, indeed, he might be able to make warriors of these two after all.


End file.
